


Christmas At the Maximoffs

by HawkeyeRules



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anti-Mutant Sentiments (Marvel), Canon Jewish Character, Christmas, Christmas Party, Erik Has Feelings, F/M, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Shark Fam, anti-Semitism, holidays can be hard okay?, i have nothing against catholics, magda's parents aren't great people, peter cuddles, peter is a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkeyeRules/pseuds/HawkeyeRules
Summary: Winter holidays are a hard time for the Maximoff-Lehnsherr family. Especially for Peter, whose grandparents are more interested in his (non-existent) academic career, and Erik, who is a well-know mutant terrorist. But together they find ways to make the holiday bearable, even if there is some angst involved.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Magda (X-Men), Lorna Dane & Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Peter Maximoff & Erik Lehnsherr, Peter Maximoff & Magda (X-Men)
Kudos: 63





	Christmas At the Maximoffs

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Placing all my emotions and annoyances and things that actually happen with members of my family into Peter’s character? It's more likely than you think!

Peter sighed and ran a comb through his hair, swearing in Polish as he did so.

“Careful,” Lorna said, poking her head into the bathroom. “If Mom hears you saying that, you’ll be eating soap for a week.”

“I know,” Peter said, putting down the comb and staring at his reflection. “It’s just this dye makes me look so—”

“Human?” Lorna suggested.

“Yeah.”

They fell silent and Peter could hear his parents talking softly in the kitchen. He strained his ears to catch what they were saying, but quickly stopped. He had enough to think about without hearing about his parents’ private lives. 

Apparently, Lorna hadn’t heard the same thing. Peter watched her listen for a moment more before grimacing and shouting, “Get a room!” down the stairs.

Peter could hear his parents’ laughter, but it sounded forced. All of them were too stressed for any real humor.

Winter holidays were a hard time for the Maximoff-Lehnsherr family. For one thing, the menorah had been less than six feet from the Christmas tree, but Magda had classified it as a fire hazard and said they needed to move it. It was currently adorning the table, but it would have to be moved again before dinner. 

The other issue was the family. Magda’s Roman Catholic family wasn’t exactly pleased with how Peter and his siblings came into being and for a long time Peter thought he didn’t even have grandparents. Relations were better now, but there was still plausible tension. 

“Hey,” Lorna said gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Peter put the hair dye under the cabinet and smiled at Lorna. “Let’s go help them before Dad burns the meat again.”

“Race you?”

Peter was downstairs before Lorna even finished her sentence and he smirked as she ran down the stairs.

“Lorna,” Magda called. “No running in the house!” 

“Peter did,” Lorna protested.

Peter waved when Magda turned to glare at him. “Hey, Mom.”

“Peter Maximoff! What have I told you about running in the house?”

“Don’t run in the house?”

“And what did you just do?”

Peter looked down and rubbed at a spot to the table. “Ran in the house.”

Hastily muffled laughter came from the stove where Erik was stirring a pot of soup. 

“Erik!” Magda said. 

“Sorry, ukochany,” Erik said, shooting Peter a smile. 

Magda shook her spoon at both of them, but Peter could see the smile on her face.

The doorbell rang and all of them froze for a moment. 

“I’ll get it,” Lorna said, leaving the kitchen.

Magda took off her apron and ran a hair though her hair. Erik reach over and pulled a sweater over his t-shirt, pulling the sleeves down to his wrists. And Peter sunk in his seat, gathering his courage to walk into the other room.

“Hey,” Wanda said, walking into the kitchen. “It’s just me.”

Everyone exhaled and Peter hugged Wanda.

“Long time no see,” he said.

“You dyed your hair.”

Peter shrugged. “You know how the family is.”

“How’s college?” Magda asked. 

“Oh, it’s so much fun!”

Peter left the kitchen before Magda and Wanda could assault his ears with stories of Wanda’s boyfriend and sat on the couch with Lorna. 

“You want to play Mario Kart?” he offered.

She nodded and Peter raced around, getting everything set up, then they chose their avatars and started the game. They only played for ten minutes before the doorbell rang again. 

In an instant, everything was packed away and Peter grabbed two thick books, placing one in Lorna’s hands.

“Hey,” she protested.

Peter just shrugged, laying on the couch with the book open in the middle. “Makes it look like we’re doing something productive.”

Lorna nodded. “Good idea.”

“What can I say? I have those sometimes.”

Magda hurried to the door, smoothing down her hair as she went.

“You look fine,” Peter called.

She gave him a strained smile before pulling open the door.

“Magda!” her mother called.

“Matka! Ojciec!” Magda said, giving them hugs. “It’s so great to see you again!”

“Hey!” Wanda said, coming from the kitchen.

“Wanda!” 

Peter shrunk farther down on the couch, counting the minutes until his grandparents realized there was more grandchildren.

“And where’s Lorna?” his grandmother asked.

Okay. It was probably going to take them a while. 

There was more gushing over how tall Lorna had gotten and how mature she looked, and Peter finally sat up and made his way to the kitchen.

Erik was standing at the counter, carefully deboning carp.

“You know,” Peter said. “I think you and I could do whatever we wanted and no one would notice.”

Erik smiled and handed him a knife. “Then you can start cutting the ham.”

Peter groaned, but was happy to stay in the kitchen with his father. After a few minutes, his grandfather came in and talked for a few minutes, but left quickly. More family came, but Peter stayed in the kitchen, helping his parents prepare the food. 

Time seemed to drag on before it was dinnertime and Peter was starting to get a headache from the lack of food. Thankfully, the dinner was made up of many dishes and Peter filled two plates full. 

To his dismay, he was sent to the kids’ table, where Lorna was sitting with their cousins. Wanda got to sit with the adults, but he had to stay there. 

As he gulped down the ham and carp, Peter tried to listen what the adults were talking about. It was mostly politics that he couldn’t follow, but he tried his best anyway.

“And don’t get me started on those mutant freaks,” Magda’s father said.

“Yes, let’s not,” Erik muttered into his glass.

Peter snorted, but sank in his seat, picking at his green beans. Two of his cousins were talking about boys in high voices and he wished would stop so he could hear the adult discussion now that had gotten to something actually interesting. 

“Those mutants are the real reason our country’s going downhill,” Magda’s father continued. “The army should just kill them all. Then we’d finally have some peace and quiet in our nation.”

There was a sharp gasp from the kitchen and the sound of breaking glass. Peter lept up instantly and forced himself to slow down on his way to the kitchen.

Magda was standing in the middle of the kitchen surrounded by shards of broken ceramic. Without being told, Peter raced to the closet and returned with a broom. He dashed around the kitchen, sweeping up every shard, careful not to hit his mother. 

The sound of liquid hitting the tile floor slowed him down and he stopped to see another tear slide down Magda’s face.

Peter took a moment to freak out—which he felt was very appropriate to the whole situation—then dumped the shards, replaced the broom, and skidded to a stop in the middle of the kitchen. 

“It’s okay,” he said, putting his arms around her. “I’m okay. It’s just a bunch of hot air.” 

“It’s not,” she said, pulling him close. “And you shouldn’t have to be okay. You shouldn’t grow up afraid and ashamed of who you are. You shouldn’t be afraid of using your gifts. You shouldn’t have to hear people talk about killing mutants and destroying them.”

She took a shuttering breath. “Your father shouldn’t have been hurt by people who didn’t understand what he was!” 

Peter stepped back and smiled. “But what about you and Charles? What about the people that do care, Mom? Just a few annoying relatives aren’t going to affect me, at least not as long as I have you guys and Lorna and the school.”

A faint smile appeared on Magda’s face and she wiped her eyes. “You’re a good son, Peter.”

“Please remember that in a few weeks when the front rug catches on fire again,” Peter laughed.

Magda kissed him on the forehead and Peter smiled. He had made her feel better and that made him feel happy. But as he walked back to the kids’ table, the unnoticed ache in his heart made itself known. 

Lorna gently nudged Peter with her foot, a question in her gaze. Peter just shrugged, his leg starting to bounce. 

I need to get out of here.

Peter stood up, made some flimsy excuse no one heard, and slipped into the living room, trying to sneak past his relatives.

“Peter!” his grandfather called.

“Hey.” Peter gave a little wave and continued inching towards the door. 

“Are you looking into any colleges lately? Magda’s basement can’t hold you forever.”

Peter gave a weak smile. “Not yet.”

His grandfather shook his head. “Shame. Young people these days down seem motivated to do anything that doesn’t involve a screen.”

Peter hid a grimace and fought to keep tears at bay. His attention was drawn from his pain by the coffee table starting to crumple. 

He made eye contact with his father. Pure rage burned in Erik’s eyes and Peter barely shook his head. Not here, not now, he was fine. 

I’ll be fine, Peter told himself, stepping outside. I’ll be fine. 

He continued to tell himself that as he raced across the world, running as fast as he could. Every step he took echoed in his mind, jeering at him.

Mutant. 

Step.

Coward.

Step.

Slow. 

Step.

Nobody.

“Auuurrrrgh!” Peter screamed, coming to a stop on a mountain side. 

He collapsed, staring up at the perfectly blue sky and taking deep breaths.

He wasn’t a coward. He had raced into battle against a god. He wasn’t a nobody. He was Peter Maximoff, son of Magneto and Magda Maximoff, alias Quicksilver. He was faster than a bullet and could shatter glass with his bare hands. He was a hero, a mutant, and he was proud of the title. 

When he felt better, he ran back home, arriving just in time for Lorna to give him a plate full of kolaczki. He took it gratefully and sat in the other room next to his father. 

The discussion had moved on to trade and Erik and Peter were able to eat in peace. 

“Your shoe is smoking,” Erik noted.

Peter gasped and stomped his foot until it stopped. 

“Thanks.”

“Feel better?”

Peter shrugged. “Maybe. I think so? I don’t know. It’ll probably just get worse before today’s over. Anyway, what about you?”

Erik pulled a delicate metal flower from under the table. Each petal was uniquely designed and thin, curled around each other as if it was just starting to blossom.

“Whoa,” Peter breathed. “That’s amazing.”

A smile softened his father’s face. “It’s for Magda. Charles told me to use my powers to create instead of destroy when I get angry.” He twirled the rose between his fingers. “I like to believe it’s working.”

“It’s definitely something Mom’s gonna like.”

“That’s the hope.”

They grew quiet, both watching the family interact around them. Peter watched Wanda laugh at something their aunt said, then Lorna playing with their cousins, and sighed. He wasn’t as good a pretender as Wanda was, thought people couldn’t liking her. Even when they were younger, she was the one that always drew the most attention from strangers. 

And Peter wasn’t as cheery as Lorna—though it probably helped that she wasn’t a mutant. He was pretty sure his extended family didn’t know about his powers, but Erik was a little more obvious. And if they knew anything about genetics, they would know the mutant gene could be passed down.

They don’t know that much, Peter scoffed. All they read is gossip sites and the news. What do they know?

Deep down inside him, though, was a pit of loneliness. He wished his grandparents would talk to him and pay attention to him like they did with his cousins and sisters. He wished he could talk to them about being a mutant with being judged or fear of retaliation. Peter wished a lot of things that would never happen.

Eventually the talks died down and people started saying goodbye and leaving. Peter helped Erik clear the table and wash the dishes, listening to Wanda talk to their grandparents about all her college plans and career plans. 

Peter scrubbed the plate he was holding furiously, focusing all his anger on it. Stupid Wanda with her college and boyfriend and job! Stupid Lorna with her cheery personality and good smile!

“Peter,” Erik said. “What did that plate ever do to you?”

Peter threw it in the soapy water and took a deep breath to keep from crying. 

“It’s like I’m invisible,” he muttered. “I mean, I should be used to it, because of how fast I run and all, but it hurts. Like, seriously, they didn’t even really talk to me! All they want to know is whether I’m getting into a good college or not, whether I have a job or not, whether I’m dating or not! Hello, have you not heard of ADHD? Or mutant powers? Or, like, you know, not going to college at all?” 

Strong arms wrapped around Peter as Erik pulled him close. 

“Peter, I am so sorry,” he said softly. “I had no idea . . . but one thing you should remember, Sohn, is that they don’t define who you are. 

“It does hurt—and believe me, it will hurt—but that will never change who you are unless you let it. Don’t let it, Peter. You are an amazing man and I am so proud of you, no matter what you end up doing.”

“These dishes?” Peter laughed, but there were tears on his face.

“I know your mother will be very proud if you do the dishes,” Erik said.

Peter pulled away and looked at his dad. “Thanks.”

Erik smiled and squeezed Peter’s shoulder. Peter swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and picked up another dish. They stayed in the kitchen for the rest of the night, helping clean up and talking. 

When everyone had left, they all curled up on the couch to watch It’s a Wonderful Life. Or at least tried to watch it. Peter stopped paying attention halfway through and wouldn’t sit still. His foot kept poking Lorna, who complained about it, and Wanda couldn’t hear the movie because of them. Finally, Erik came and sat between Peter and Lorna, and on top of Peter’s feet.

“Dude!” Peter protested. “Really?”

“Here.” Erik handed him a cube covered in little things to mess with. Peter took it with a smile and whispered, “Thanks” to Erik. 

Eventually, the events of the day overwhelmed him and he snuggled closer to his dad, resting his head on Erik’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

Outside, snow was falling, Christmas was just a few hours away, and Peter was happy, surrounded by those who loved him.


End file.
